


Indulgence

by ShadyQuiet



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Force Ghost Qui-Gon Jinn, Isolation, Madness, Obi-Wan Kenobi is a Mess
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-30
Updated: 2018-04-30
Packaged: 2019-04-30 03:41:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14488050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadyQuiet/pseuds/ShadyQuiet
Summary: Over time, Obi-Wan talks to a Qui-Gon who may or may not be with him. It may not have been his best idea.





	Indulgence

It was an indulgence. A single ignorance of the code. In the midst of a Galactic war that Obi-Wan wanted the Jedi to have never been a part of, he found that he almost craved the time for it.

At first, he had been too overwhelmed by grief to think of Qui-Gon’s orders much, their past. Simply obeying on automatic attachment. Later, he had just clung to the lessons as he attempted to train Anakin, trying not to think of his own master whilst he tried to be the best one he could for such an impatient and angry young man.

Nowadays, Obi-Wan was alone still, as he had always felt. Just in a different way.

Alone as an unwanted Padawan. Alone with a beloved but cool-mannered Master. Alone as a lost young man bereft of everything. Alone as he alone pushed through years of dedicated training whilst the order, galaxies and long-dead Jedi looked on his efforts and laughed.

Somehow he’d landed himself on the council for it. Force knew how. But he’d been alone there too. Ever unsure and striving to do what he thought was right.

Now, alone on a battle ship full of callously made clones that he’d come to care for as he would any life form, Obi-Wan patrolled the galaxy on an endless course of battle that was draining him.

And that was the first time it had happened. When he’d faced a brutal and bloody battle that they’d scraped by via his commands and he’d lost too many troops for him to find acceptable, when even one was too much.

Stained with blood, dirt and the smoke of battle Obi-Wan saw to his troops’ needs. Cody was giving him the side-eye, which must mean that he looked worse than he’d thought.

“I’m going to finish my report. Stand down for now Cody.” The man nodded in reply and Obi-Wan peeled himself off the floor with blood-tacky boots and walked the length of the ship exhausted from Force use, yet hearing the light he followed wailing in the darkness of space.

His cabin on board was spartan and functional save for the luxury of a round table where he could oversee a miniature version of their command and communications table from decks below.

He felt weary. Tired beyond belief and soul-sick in a way he hadn’t been since Qui-Gon died and Anakin lost an arm fighting a Sith.

The flaring image of his Master brought forth the question he’d never had an answer to, the one thing he’d never dared ask, oh so many times, now slipped from his lips.

“Would you be proud of me now, Master?” The sarcastic comment was quiet in the solitude of his room. But he could almost remember ever so clearly the Force presence of his Master that he could feel that deep, calm, weighted impression of him right behind him. Judging.

A snarl unlike anything he’d heard himself make before snatched at his throat and Obi-Wan spun and flung his communicator at the impression of his Master that he’d conjured behind him. There was nothing there naturally, and with the crack of his comms unit breaking against the wall and falling to the ground in pieces, Obi-Wan lost the tension in his limbs. Covering his face with shaking hands as he leant back on the table, the master allowed just a moment of reflection. Almost too painful after so many years.

“Of course you wouldn’t be. Look at this mess… But I _will_ do better.” His eyes looked up and he slit to sit on the floor gracelessly. “Force I hope you knew I would at least do that.”

The evening hadn’t been one he was particularly proud of, but in its own melancholy way the process had been cathartic.

He’d had precious little time, energy or want to look back on his time with his master, given it’s painful beginning and end, a middle full of cherished years. He was sure however that speaking to imagined presences and losing his temper at them would not be something befitting his appearance as a council member. Therefore when it continued to happen; those little glimpses of Qui-Gon’s ‘presence’ when he dwelled on his Master, Obi-Wan indulged in his venting quietly.

“Blasted _Bandomeer_ of all places! If one shoddy little Sith-hole could escape the reaches of the war I would have hoped it would be that one but _oh no_ , it _didn’t_! And of course _I_ have to be the one to go and assist because ‘learn something, I might’!”

Obi-Wan finished his panting, pacing circle of his cabin, skin prickling as it would be if Qui-Gon was right there and having to listen to him complain like a youngling and impersonate Yoda’s voice. Well, he might have laughed at that last bit.

“This war is swiftly becoming an unwanted trip down memory lane.” With that he snatched his repaired comms unit off the table and swept out, gathering his Jedi decorum as he went. Obi-Wan left the self-doubting and lost boy he could still be back in the room.

 

*

Quickly, Cody and the rest of the men noticed his pattern. No matter how horrific the mission, or what their fellow Jedi company was, when they disbanded and returned with the mission over to their own battleship, the General would go to his room, and was not to be disturbed until he emerged of his own free will.

Any clones that passed learned to ignore the occasional smash they heard or raised voice. The General was a private person, and he looked after them well. In turn, the clones learned to respect exactly whatever it was that Obi-Wan Kenobi needed to do in order to get his head back into the game. It was a good head, and they wanted to keep it.

 

*

“I _like_ flying! How many times did I pilot us about the place? But Anakin’s piloting is like being piloted by a heat-seeking missile!”

_“I’m sure it can’t be that bad.”_ Obi-Wan wasn’t quite sure when he’d started deluding Qui-Gon’s wry replies to his questions. The man in true life would surely have told him to meditate on his frustrations by now. _“You gave me enough scares I seem to recall.”_

“I would listen!” Obi-Wan protested, storming around the table whilst absentmindedly tuning his lightsaber. “Do you know how many times he’s obeyed me? I can count them on both hands, if that. I must be the mockery of the temple. Any other master would be able to control their padawan or impart wisdom and instead here I am, subjected time and again to the vigour of his ‘better gifts with the Force’ yes, I knew you were going to say it. We all know he’s far superior to the rest of us plebeians.” He directed the last portion at the location by the window where he was imagining Qui-Gon for the day after yet another hair-raising journey through an asteroid field.

“Sometimes I wonder on your judgement of spreading that ‘Chosen One’ suspicion to the council.” Obi-Wan admitted. Gradually, slightly, it was becoming easier to air his grievances with the ever-patient if dourly judgemental Qui-Gon in his mind. Things he would never have dared say when Qui-Gon was in one of his ‘moods’ as he was at the time of Anakin’s introduction to the council. Slowly his gaze passed through the imaginary spot and on through to the stars and suns beyond.

“Can you imagine having to grow up like that? Being so sure your special, yet so doubted for it. Made special for something you don’t even understand. Oh yes, he was the star of anything in his class to do with the Force, you were right about that… But for a boy to come from nothing who already had such childish pride and then to see that amplified by all but the council and me, judged by his peers… Slavery is suffering, but Anakin has never been free, never been at peace.”

The imagined Qui-Gon in his mind frowned, perhaps thinking him disloyal to his apprentice. Obi-Wan loved Anakin, but he wished that he could have started with the boy in another place, another time. He hadn’t been ready for the venture, and though he’d done his best, and been Anakin’s only option, he felt he’d done little in the way of favours for the boy overall.

Partly, Obi-Wan didn’t want to smother out the life he saw bright and keen on Tatooine.

“Jedi children are so repressed. Ashoka, Anakin, they’re nothing like most, nothing like me. He was special for me because of that vibrancy of spirit. I couldn’t bare to snuff it out of him.” He sighed long and deep. “And look where that’s got me. Unable to take another padawan because I feel too attached to mine. He doesn’t need me, I think I only want him to. But I would like to train another. I miss training him. I miss the temple, and time with the younglings. This war is abhorrent.”

Obi-Wan turned from where Qui-Gon stood, going to his bed to lay down.

“Leave me alone.” He didn’t need that sombre, judging presence when he could barely stop the nightmares any more.

 

*

Over time, the inevitable happened. Obi-Wan’s conversations with the Qui-Gon in his mind turned more personal.

“I have some sort of sick reputation as a Sith killer. But I barely remember it. I only remember you dying.” The words were flat. He’d lost ten men today on a covert mission and another Jedi had fallen across the Galaxy. His dead eyes were looking in the mirror, and he couldn’t recognise himself. Some barely-adult creature had been wielding a red sabre and Obi-Wan had taken care of it. Had had to kill again rather than detain for questioning when the barely-Sith tried to force-choke his men.

“The council admonished me for choosing a valuable prisoner over a clone. As if they’re not alive. As if soldiers are meant to be fed to the battlefield just to die. Well what am I then? I’ve killed. I’ll have to kill again and I can’t-“ His voice caught and he covered his mouth with a trembling hand. Several moments passed.

“I don’t know where you would stand on the matter. I shouldn’t even ask. You’re dead.” He let his eyes meet back in the mirror, almost seeing Qui-Gon’s staring back at him. “I killed you.” The Qui-Gon in the mirror managed to look pained, confused. Obi-Wan just continued, voice dead. “I always listened to you at the end. I ignored my own instincts in favour of yours. I knew there was danger and let you steer me away from it. Perhaps that’s why I was lenient with Anakin… If I’d been able to believe in myself you might still be alive.”

He turned from the glass unable to see the tear run down his master’s face.

 

*

By the time the war was over, and he had delivered a defenceless infant to a life of hardship in the desert, Obi-Wan drifted aimlessly.

Qui-Gon. Yoda had said to contact him. Obi-Wan didn’t see how or why he should. What could he possibly say?

“I failed you. I failed everything.” The words came unbidden, somewhere in the middle of the desert where he had wandered off. Sand spilled under his knees when he fell to them. How long had he been walking for? How many days without water? Had he truly just left Luke without staying to check the boy wasn’t being watched? Groaning, Obi-Wan looked back the way he’d come to see his footprints already obscured.

_I wish the sand would take me too._

__

__

_“Obi-Wan,”_

“Go away Qui-Gon.” He murmured flatly, body falling to the sand. “I’m tired.”

And he was. He was still injured from fighting Anakin, he was soul-sick still from the war and the loss of his people.

And yet somehow Obi-Wan did not die.

No. That would be too easy.

Instead he lived on, barely. Through the motions, he went. Narrating to Qui-Gon or Anakin or putting on Yoda’s voice. And sometimes, just when he couldn’t bear not to, he would walk through the city to see little Luke Skywalker safe and sound.

Once, the boy, no more than five, had reached out for his cloak as they passed, grin bright and Force signature pure and joyful, clinging to his unknowingly.

His face cracked around a smile that hadn’t formed in years. The simple joy of a child. Returning to his hut, Obi-Wan saw Qui-Gon’s blue form waiting for him.

He sighed, rolling his eyes and pushing the door open.

“Not now master. For once I’ve had a good day, I don’t need to berate either of our every moments like a child today.” For somewhere along the line he’d began to visualise the hallucination along with have auditory and sensory delusions.

_“So sorry to spoil it for you.”_ Obi-Wan yawned in lieu of sighing again and closed the door behind him, hoping that would keep out the apparition.

“If you were, you wouldn’t be here!” He called back through instead, and begun trying to shake the sand out of his boots.

*

“This is all your fault you know! I needed you, and none of you could be bothered to show up! I’m looking at you-“ Obi-Wan spun around and pointed at Yoda’s glowy form following him around. Anakin and Qui-Gon were no more helpful looking guiltily innocent by the diminutive Jedi’s side.

“I’ll never find that Bantha, and Bessie was a good, proud Bantha and now she’s gone! Only one of you needed to be keeping guard and none of you were on duty! Cody, you at least should have known better!” The clone winced a little and shifted his weight back. “Dex was cooking, he was doing his share, why couldn’t all of you if you insist on not leaving me alone-“

“Obi-Wan!” It was the pressure on his arms that made him spin around, eyes wide and staring at the singular form of Qui-Gon Jinn’s blue force ghost regarding him with shocked, worried eyes.

_I can feel him. Oh Force._

“W-Where are the others?” His voice managed to choke out, wary, almost hoping he’d slipped another level into madness. That could not be Qui-Gon’s hands putting pressure through the Force on his arms. The face before him was grim.

“They are gone. Not that they are real. I, on the other hand, am. And I had hoped you would have noticed me long ago. I fear you may have been privy to my early attempts at communication and for that, I am sorry. I fear that this is a path I have led you down but I couldn’t, couldn’t resist when I saw you that first time.”

Beneath him, Obi-Wan’s knees gave way. He continued to stare up at Qui-Gon in a mix of wonder and grief.

“You’re here?” The words were nearly a whisper. “How long?” A wry smile as his arms were released.

“Too long, my Obi-Wan, to have caused you such suffering. I chose to focus on you after you seemed to sense me that first time on your battleship.” Qui-Gon’s eyes raised a little at the words. “I have not been there for every moment, time works very differently for me.”

“Since the war?”

“I couldn’t turn away from your presence. I found myself too attached to your receptiveness to me.” He smiled that self-depreciating smile that Obi-Wan had always grinned back at. “I needed you too much Obi-Wan.”

There was a long silence as the words filtered in.

“You sought _me_?” The incredulous tone had Qui-Gon’s brows furrowing.

“Who else would I seek? Surely not the council.” Qui-Gon scoffed. Obi-Wan frowned, eyes casting about briefly before frowning up at his master.

“Anakin? Yoda? Mace?”

“Any single person but you?” Qui-Gon finished for him a little sternly and Obi-Wan blinked tired eyes.

“I would have thought so.” He gestured a little helplessly, fingers trailing through sand, and Qui-Gon knelt before him, the Force more than fingertips touched his cheek and as if triggered Obi-Wan felt tears burn out of his eyes.

“I think you have allowed your memory to fail you nearly as much as I have failed you myself. I heard those things you said and thought of yourself, they cannot be true? Obi-Wan? You cannot believe that of yourself?” Qui-Gon kept speaking but Obi-Wan’s eyes drifted away. “You think you are a disappointment, that you are destined to be alone, that you were responsible for my death? I did not put you forward for the Trials just because of Anakin, but because you did not need me anymore, Obi-Wan.” At the words, Obi-Wan saw red like those force-fields separating them so long ago and leapt to his feet, backing away clumsily in the sand.

“Didn’t _need_ you? Yes I do! I always did! And instead you abandoned me and ordered me to train some psychopath who would grow under my tutelage to slaughter the entire Jedi Order! All because _you_ thought he was some sort of prophecy! Well, well bloody done Qui-Gon! So did the Sith! And so did he! And now I have _nothing_ except visions of him killing me! Tell me, Qui-Gon, am I destined to have my murder attempted by all of your would-be apprentices before I finally succumb to the one we both contributed to? I know I was never the most impressive of Jedi but at least I was too boring and undesirable to be turned to the dark side!”

The silence stretched on over that, save for Obi-Wan panting. Qui-Gon stared at him, unreadable.

“You’re the only one…” Qui-Gon’s murmured words meant little as Obi-Wan struggled for breath. He felt dizzy and sick, horrified at the words coming out of his mouth, but he couldn’t take them back now. His little cathartic exercise had gone too far. Had maybe never been cathartic at all, but an awful indulgence and liability.

Across from him, something on Qui-Gon’s face hardened.

“Forgive me, Obi-Wan.”

“What?”

“There is one more thing I must ask of you.” With that Qui-Gon strode forwards and Obi-Wan was smothered in something between the Force and a hug as bright, clean energy poured through him and rendered him _gone._

_“Let me save you from this.”_

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!  
> I may make this a prequel for another good ol' time travel story I have in the pipeline, but can be read as stand alone.


End file.
